


that i would name the stars for you

by spiekiel



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, enough sap to fill a tree, oh captain my captain, the illusion of plot, turbolift sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiekiel/pseuds/spiekiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Spock, James Tiberius Kirk has always been an inevitability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that i would name the stars for you

For Spock, James Tiberius Kirk has always been an inevitability.He imagines he always will be, but Spock is never so rash as to think he might predict the future.

 

It takes him a great deal longer than he would ever be proud to admit to qualify the exact nature of his loyalty to the captain, and so it isn't until three years into their five year mission that he finds himself watching Kirk's vital signs from the captain's chair, and thinking mildly in the back of his mind, as if remarking on the weather, that the steady pulse of the captain's heart monitor sounds just like he imagines home must.

 

He takes a breath slightly deeper than his normal, and notices in his peripheral vision that Nyota looks at him oddly from her post across the bridge.Without moving his gaze from the conn, he says evenly, "Lieutenant Uhura, communications status report on the away mission, if you will."

 

If history serves as any model, Nyota will be pursing her lips and turning back sharply to her station in annoyance at having been asked the same question four times in as many hours."Approaching eighteen hours without contact, Commander Spock.Last report was more than one lunar cycle ago, and was a routine check-in from Lieutenant Commander Sulu, which contained no mention of any abnormalities."  

 

"Thank you, Lieutenant."Spock knows that, according to Starfleet regulation, the captain has six more hours within which to make contact the Enterprise, before an alert can be sounded, but he cannot seem to shake a strange sensation that something is wrong.In fact, he cannot help but entertain the uncharacteristic desire to be able to vacate the captain's chair, so that Kirk might reprise his rightful post, and so that Spock might retire to his quarters to meditate on the fact that he cannot stop envisioning the captain's clear blue eyes.

 

Three years out of regular contact with any other telepaths of any variety have softened Spock's mental barriers, and he imagines, if anyone happened to be listening, he would be broadcasting quite strongly a loop of Kirk's laugh, stronger even than the artificial cadence of his replicated heartbeat on the monitor.

 

Directly at his four o'clock, Spock registers a sudden, quiet alert.Nyota hastens to raise her headphones to her ears, and amidst the other miscellaneous and innocuous sounds of a well-operating bridge, Nyota's nails click on her station padd."Scratch that last, Commander," she says."Incomming transmission from the away team."

 

"On the conn," Spock requests shortly.  

 

He's irrationally perturbed to see Sulu's face appear on grainy transmission, instead of Kirk's, but he notes with some degree of relief that Sulu appears neither wounded nor in any danger of being so."Commander," Sulu says, but before he can even attempt a mission report, he's interrupted by something crashing behind him.

 

"You got Spock on?" The captain's face swims into view, his cheeks and nose pinked by a smattering of sunburn, his hair several shades lighter than when he disembarked.Spock has a gut inclination, which in itself is a rare occurence for him, that he should inspect every inch of the captain for injuries the moment he sets foot in the docking bay."Great, Spock," Kirk says."Sorry we missed the last check-in, we were busy avoiding a code three fifty-seven."

 

Spock raises one eyebrow incredulously."You were evading an underwater carnivorous species? I believe the planet we sent you to read to be composed of point oh-one percent water - "

 

"Nah, not that one.What's the other one - the 'historical cultural events' one."The captain's gaze is piercing even over a recently-repaired ground to starship communications line, which Spock believes some would refer to as 'not fair,' a terminology which he can in this instance see the validity of.

 

"You're referring to code one-five-seven, sir, which states that a Starfleet officer must take care to never participate in any historical occurrences. I do hope you haven't violated it, it's one of the cornerstones of Starfleet protocol."He has no doubt that Kirk has indeed violated one-five-seven, and probably a slew of other general orders on the way, but he feels it is his duty to err on the side of caution, even though his loyalty to his captain far outstrides his loyalty to the Federation.  

 

Kirk smiles, and even with the bad picture quality, it transforms his entire face.Spock theorizes that waking up to that smile might be the closest he could ever get, now, to waking up to the Vulcan sunrise."I don't know, they put robes on us - " he steps back from the screen to show Spock the long, formless woven robe he's wearing - "and we sort of mumbled along with some religious sounding chanting, but that couold mean anything, right?"

 

Spock doesn't even bother to grace that with a response.At the helm, he hears Ensign Checkov snicker behind his hand."Do you have anything else to report, captain?"

 

Sulu mutters something unintelligible from back in the depths of their transport ship.Kirk snorts, turns around to mutter something back to him, but when he returns to the padd, instead says, "Nothing else, Spock.Intelligent subspecies 243-b appears completely peaceful.No cause for concern right now, but we should schedule a return diplomatic mission later with a Federation ambassador."

 

"Very well," Spock trusts that the ensign at his seven o'clock responsible for taking note of all official transmission will be recording the suggestion for a return mission."Do you have an estimated time of return?"

 

"Should be as soon as this next sandstorm clears, and we can get the transport off the ground.We might stop off to get the readings Scotty wanted on the orbital electrical waves, too, see if we can't figure a way to beam down onto the next panet with atmospheric disturbances."

 

Sulu appears behind Kirk, in his own poncho-like robe."I estimate return around oh-seven hundred hours by the ship's time, Commander Spock," he reports.He looks uncertainly down at Kirk, and then says in a rush, "Also, the captain's had a migraine for the last six hours that he won't stop whining about, so you may want to have Doctor McCoy on the ready in the landing bay with some painkillers.Maybe a sedative."

 

The captain exclaims something along the lines of, 'Mutiny!' and ends the transmission, leaving Spock to return to the silenced, still-blipping vital signs on the conn behind the closed communications window.It is right now oh-four hundred hours, eight hours into the zeta shift, and it has been forty-two hours since he has stood close enough to feel the captain's radiating warmth across the vast inches of uncharted space between them.

 

#

 

"I'm reading irregular brainwaves out the wazoo," McCoy grumbles, looking crossly through the thick-paned window of quarantine room four, where the captain is somehow managing to nap and look put out at the same time."Something down there must have induced increased telepathic activity.So far, it seems like all it's doing is giving him a headache, but I'm keeping his ass locked down on seven-ten until I can really check him out."

 

Kirk is lying stiffly on the biobed, his arms crossed over his chest, stripped down to his black landing gear underclothes, the native robes from before no doubt whisked off to the cultural archives.His legs are pale compared to his tanned forearms, but every visible inch of skin is unmarred, at least as far as recent wounds, and Spock thinks unconsciously that observing the captain at rest is like having the opportunity to examine a lightning bolt immobilised, the sky for miles around illuminated by the sheer brilliance of crackling, _amazing_ electricity _-_

 

The captain nearly falls in his haste to leap from the biobed.Spock is, by merit of the past three years spent in Kirk's almost constant company, unsurprised by the sudden change of position that brings Kirk to stand in front of the thick paned observation window, wide-eyed confusion apparent on his face.He is, however, slightly thrown when the captain presses the talk button on the inside of the glass, and demands, "What did you say?"

 

"Captain?" he inclines his head slightly, unable to answer Kirk's question.  

 

This close, even through the glass, he can see that even the very ends of Kirk's eyelashes have been lightened by the planet's intense sunlight, and that amidst the sunburn on his cheeks are constellations of freckles that were not there before but that Spock will learn as dilligently as those of the night sky, _beautiful_ - 

 

The captain looks pained, and Spock wonders if his migraines might be returning."What did you just say, Spock?"

 

There is something rather _frightened_ in the captain's gaze, but still Spock is at a loss to answer him.McCoy, however, seems to be having no such trouble, and says in a tone that suggests he would very much prefer that his shift end immediately, "Christ, Jim, he didn't say anything."  

 

Kirk looks over at Spock quickly, then back at McCoy, disbelieving."You're _sure_ he didn't say anything?" he asks.  

 

McCoy shakes his head, and Spock says, "Are you certain you're quite alright, captain?"

 

Though he has faith in McCoy's skills as the ship's chief medical officer, in the privacy of his own mind, he thinks that he would like to escort the captain back to their connected quarters, and conduct his own thorough check of him, run his hands over every inch of the captain's body and with his lips lay claim to every irregularity.  

 

On the other side of the glass, Kirk closes his eyes tightly, and drags a hand over his face, breathing deeply."I'm fine, Spock," he says, but his voice breaks on Spock's name."It's just a headache."

 

Spock watches him with concern for any signs of further injury as he retreats to the biobed, but registers nothing out of the ordinary.To McCoy, he says, "I'll have the captain's personal padd sent down shortly, in the even that you need to keep him overnight for examination."McCoy nods."I trust that you'll inform me of any developments."

 

"Sure thing, Spock," McCoy says, in his usual unamused grumble.  

 

Spock allows himself another long minute to watch the captain in the bright overhead lights of the medbay, trying restlessly and in vain to settle into a comfortable position on the biobed, one arm curled under his head in place of any real pillow.He thinks before leaving that, were he to lie down next to him, he might thread his fingers through the captain's hair, let the captain relax down, warm and pliant across him - 

 

He turns away from the observation window before he can see the captain's gaze snap up to his face, his expression open, lips parted, looking as if he's just been punched.

 

#

 

Spock finishes the remaining hour of zeta shift, and then leaves Nyota at the conn for alpha, to get his first shift of sleep in the past forty-six hours since the captain's away team disembarked.When he returns for the start of beta shift, Kirk is once again sitting in the captain's chair, his gold command shirt back on, and Spock is shot straight to his core with a sense of safety, stability and _rightness_.  

 

The captain looks over his shoulder at the sound of the turbolift doors, and his gaze traces Spock as he walks to his post, eyes crisp and blue and reflecting the millions of stars streaking past at warp speed outside the bridge."Spock," the captain acknowledges, and his voice sounds slightly choked, but it's still his - still the voice that Spock could fall asleep to as easily as to the soothing sound of sand dunes shifting in the wind on Vulcan.  

 

He can feel the captain's gaze hanging heavy on him as he sits down to his station, so he looks up and makes direct eye-contact with him, and - 

 

James Kirk is inescapable, but Spock has never in his life failed to rise to a challenge, and no matter how dangerous it is, he will follow this man to the ends of the known universe, will follow him past them, will die for him when the time comes, because James Kirk is light, he is everything, he has saved Spock a hundred times, and Spock has been in debt, has been living in fealty to him since before he even knew him properly.

 

The captain tears his gaze away from Spock's and stands, motioning for Spock to follow him."I need a word, Spock," he says.  

 

Virtually all eyes on the bridge crew seem to follow him as he stands, but he walks behind the captain into the turbolift without so much as a backwards glance.The doors to the turbolift close behind them, and they have barely begun to move when Kirk pulls the emergency stop, turning the floor-to-ceiling lights surrounding them to a harsh red glow.

 

Kirk turns to face him slowly.Even in the dim, he burns bright, a blaze across all of space, and if Spock were a poet he would say that the world ends in fire, inevitably, every time.The fire in his captain's heart, in his will to fight and his undying loyalty to his crew, the fire in the way Spock would kiss him, surrender to the blaze, if he could - 

 

The captain's eyes are red-ringed, and his shoulders do not have the usual strength of set that Spock is accustomed to observing from his position behind and to the right of him.He looks uncertain, and slightly wary, still with that frightened glint that only Spock ever seems to perceive."You can," he says, quietly.  

 

Spock tilts his head, his eyebrows drawing down to crease his forehead."Captain?"

 

Kirk swallows, and Spock tries hard not to follow the motion of his throat, shadowed in the red lighting."I can hear you," Kirk says, haltingly, "and you can."

 

It is not often that Spock finds himself at a loss for understanding, even where the captain's often frenetic throught patterns are concerned, but this does appear to be one of those increasingly rare incedents.Kirk looks frustrated at Spock's silence, breathing hard through his nose, and in the confined space the concentrated tension of his muscles is hot enough to scald, to set Spock's nerves aflame.

 

"Fuck, stop thinking so loud," Kirk breathes, "you glorious green-blooded bastard."  

 

Before Spock can decide whether he should take offense at that, or, given that it's his captain, take it as a sort of compliment, Kirk's wide, calloused hands are cupping his hyper-sensitive ears, Kirk's mouth locks over his and with the speed of his charged heart, Spock's mind _explodes_ - 

 

He feels golden warmth, the heat of the captain's sunburnt skin, fear and hope and realisation like a phaser blast to the gut in sickbay, admiration dating as far back as Spock can see and attraction for longer, and if for Spock James was a comforting eventuality then for Kirk Spock was an impossible dream, ringed in light and undercut by every time they jumped together from the precipice and managed, somehow, to land on their feet.He feels Kirk as if he is everywhere at once, all around him and inside him and above him and _love,_ and stars above, he feels _want want want_ , feels Kirk's fingers mussing his hair and can't determine whether it's real or imagined - 

 

"Jim," he murmurs, and he feels it in his bones that Kirk understands - it's not a reprimand or a warning but an _exaltation,_ an adoration - and stutters in his arms.

 

Spock registers distantly pressing the captain back against the wall of the turbolift, stepping without pause into that final inch of space between them as the captain leverages himself on Spock's shoulders and wraps his legs around his waist, and Spock will always take whatever weight that Jim requires him to carry, would heft the universe up onto his back if he ever asked.Kirk sucks Spock's tongue into his mouth, moans filthily, and Spock's head spins - 

 

He craves Jim's body, craves the feel of Jim under him and the sounds he would make, mind scattered and hips pressing up into Spock's hands, and Spock wants to take his time, map every inch of him with his tongue and his teeth and bring him slowly to the edge until he was coming apart at the seams, loose-limbed with pleasure but his hands tight on Spock's shoulders, fingers fluttering over his ears and his eyes and his cheeks as Spock swallowed him down, and the feeling of Jim's abdominal muscles contracting rapidly under his hands would be second only to the bow of his spine as he arched up from Spock's bed and cried out - 

 

The captain ruts against him, his hips grinding forward into Spock's, and for a moment all Spock can see in their shared mental space is a blinding, overpowering white.By the time he recovers, his hands are on Kirk's thighs, pulling him against him even as Kirk moves forward of his own volition, his chest straining, heart a frantic battering against Spock's ribcage, head tipped back and eyes half-lidded.

 

Spock buries his face in Jim's neck, and his own breath seems caught somewhere in his throat, but he manages to press open-mouthed kisses to Jim's sweat-salty skin all the same.Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that he's not supposed to subscribe to such a show of emotion, but the feeling of Jim moving with him, pressed up between him and the wall, is the greatest high in the universe, and he thinks _beautiful, beautiful, I could spend a thousand lifetimes wrapped up in you -_

 

Jim's brilliant blue eyes are blown wide, and he seizes Spock by the ears and drags him back to his mouth, kissing him hard and desperate as he comes. _Just got the one lifetime,_ Spock hears, but he doesn't feel Jim's lips move.

 

He feels Jim's hands move across the backs of his shoulders and down his spine, bunching his uniform shirt up so that he can get his hands on the bare skin of Spock's lower back, flushed green."Come on," Jim breathes against his mouth, and he can still feel Jim pulsing against him, can feel the blackout edges of Jim's orgasm at the back of his vision, can feel Jim's eyelashes against the skin of his cheeks, can feel _one home in all of time and space -_

 

Spock's orgasm rips through him like a tidal wave, and he falls forward into the captain and lets it carry him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> title from a richard siken poem


End file.
